


Unseen Glances

by xfandomwritingsx



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/M, Fluff, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfandomwritingsx/pseuds/xfandomwritingsx
Summary: Little snapshots throughout the seasons of yours and Becker’s relationship spanning from the first meeting to the last episode.





	1. S3.E1.

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve had this idea for a reader character that fits into the main story line and episodes with Becker as a love interest. I don’t have the time, motivation, or dedication anymore to write it out in full like it probably deserves. HOWEVER! I really wanted to get some of this stuff to you and the easiest way to do it is in little snapshots. Some taking place during episodes, some taking place in between. There will be a little more telling than showing than I like but it is what it is. I hope you enjoy it! There's more to come!

The first time you see him he’s walking with Lester through the arc, getting the grand tour. You’re in the main room, reading a couple of papers and catching up on some research when they walk in. You notice them and watch as he looks around the room, calculate but curious.

You had heard people talk about updated security and new protocols, but you hadn’t seen anything to back it up until now. By the looks of him, Lester had apparently hired more military men for backup. Lovely.

“You’ll be dealing with a highly strung and temperamental team of rank amateurs who just happen to be brilliant at what they do,” Lester tells him. You perk your head up and tilt your lips into a small smile when you hear him.

“Well that’s not very nice now, is it?” you pipe up, putting the papers down. “You know you love us.” The sight eye roll Lester does gives you a small bit of satisfaction.

“That’s Y/N, part of the reckless band of fools I just mentioned,” he barely acknowledges you before continuing on with his conversation. “Your job is to stop them from getting themselves killed.” The soldier looks at you and you flash him a smile that was meant to be charming, but combined with Lester’s words probably looked a little more troublemaker-like. “No matter what they say no matter what excuses they use, you and your men stick to them like glue.” You’re about to make another sarcastic comment when he continues. “We can’t afford another Stephen Hart, is that clear?” Lester’s voice lowers just a hair and whatever smartass thing you were going to say dies in your throat and you look back down at your papers. Stephen had been the first real loss on the team, and it still stung everyone a little.

“Crystal clear, sir,” the soldier responds evenly. Lester takes just a moment to recompose himself, less than a second really.

“Good Luck,” he says fleetingly. He walks past the soldier going to leave, but turns around after a moment of thought. “Oh, by the way, Professor Cutter won’t like you and he will go out of his way to make your job as difficult as possible.” You have to smile a little at that as the soldier raises his eyebrows slightly surprised. At least he was nice enough to warn the poor guy. “Try not to take it personally.”

You watch the new addition to the team as he scans the room, taking it all in. You wonder if he knows what he’s gotten himself into and how long he’ll last. A lot of people tend to come and go in this field. They think it’s all fun and dinosaurs until they face one and then suddenly they can’t take it.

“He’s not lying,” you say to him, getting his attention. “Cutter doesn’t take too kindly to the hired help unless he hires them.” His stance never wavers from his military attention stand and a part of you really just wants to push him off balance. He looks way too formal.

“Well my job isn’t to be well liked,” he answers easily. There’s a hint of dry humor hidden behind his serious tone. You like it.

“Then you should fit right in.” You hop off your seat, taking your papers with you. You walk by him, his eyes following you. You smack your papers playfully against his chest as you go. He glances down briefly surprised by your gesture. “Welcome to the team,” you call back at him before exiting the room.

–

You hadn’t expected much interaction with him. Most of the security just faded into the background, but all throughout the museum and the chase through the city, he surprises you. He takes initiative past just standing around with a gun. He actively asks questions about the creature. He takes charge, but doesn’t get in the way. It’s refreshing. And beyond all that, he actually has a personality.

You had seen him watch Connor break the Sun Cage and listen to Sarah’s story about the curse with an amused look hidden under the laid back and cocky stance. He’d even popped in and added a, “Bad luck” for good measure which made you chuckle. His eyes find you, and smirks along with you when Connor knocks the vase down.

Shortly after that, you find yourself in his passenger seat on the way to meet up with Cutter and Abby. They had wanted you to stay in the museum to start with, but now that you knew what it was and that it was out in the general population, you want to be out there.

He drives quickly, but not irrationally. You suppose with a job description of “keep people alive” it wouldn’t make much sense to get into a wreck. You pick your kit up from the floor where you had stuffed it when you climbed in. Putting it on your lap, you flip open the white lid and do a quick inventory of your supplies, moving to reorganize it to make the items you’re most likely to need easily accessible.

“What is that?” he questions, taking his gaze from the road briefly to watch you.

“It’s my travel kit,” you tell him, still moving your things around. “I’m the resident field medic. Or the closest thing we have to one at least.” You pick up a packet of gauze for him to see. “You wouldn’t want me performing surgery, but I can patch you up pretty good.” He tilts his head, seemingly satisfied with the answer and turns his attention back to the road. “You got thrown right into the fire, didn’t you?” you joke, trying to make some light conversation with him. “Creature incursion on your first day, lucky you.”

“They promised an eventful job. I’d be disappointed if I didn’t get a taste of it from day one.” His voice is even and slightly dry, but the humor is unmistakable.

“Why do I have a feeling I’m going to be patching you up a lot?” You smile lightly at him while closing up your kit. His eyes don’t waver from the road as he smoothly weaves between two cars in your way.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be one I have to pull out of danger’s path a lot?” he counters, a playfulness replacing the irritation the words might have implied.

“Sometimes first impressions are wrong,” you muse, biting your lip to stop the smile. You want to at least _pretend_ he was wrong.

“And sometimes they’re spot on,” he admits, looking over at you once more. You can’t bite back the smile this time and let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, sometimes,” you agree. “How far away are we?”

“Almost there.”

–

“I’m not bowing,” he says sternly, as if the idea is completely absurd. You suppose it might sound that way to the new folks, but if you were being honest, this wasn’t the weirdest thing you’d done in this line of work. You all start to lower yourself down and you notice that Becker is still standing tall besides you, gun pointed at the limping Pristichampsus.

“Like hell you’re not,” you whisper a little harsher than you intend. Reaching up, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and give him a firm yank. Not expecting it, he gives a small _umph_ noise and while his knees don’t buckle, his torso loses a bit of its steadiness. “Get your ass down here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The sarcasm in his voice coats over either a displeasure or a surprise. You don’t really care which at the moment because it’s getting him to bend his legs and crouch down next to you, gun still held ready to fire if need be. You notice his feet inch forward just enough so that he puts himself out in front of the line. Your hand is no longer in his waistband, but is still resting just above his hip, partly because you’re too afraid to move and startle the animal and partly to help you keep your balance as you crouch on your toes.

The crocodile-like creature creeps forward and watches you all carefully. You can feel everyone in line tense up and lean back just slightly, as if that one extra inch would have saved them should it attack. Everyone except Becker that is. You can feel him tense under your hand, but he is unwavering, finger ready to pull the trigger.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to as the animal slinks back through the anomaly. Everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief before Connor yells out and falls from the boxes onto his back. You have to let out a breathy laugh, one of those laughs that comes when your body isn’t entirely sure of the right reaction, and pat Becker on the back.

As everyone stands, he turns to you and raises his eyebrows with a plain, straight face. You’re not entirely sure if he’s expecting an apology or an explanation for your actions.

“What?” you shrug. “It worked, didn’t it?” The smallest smile tints his lips before he directs his attention elsewhere.

“Let’s get this site secure!”

–

As you pass the coed locker room on your way home for the day, you notice Becker sitting on the bench with his back towards you, still donning his full uniform and just starting to untie his boots.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” you say casually as you pop your head in. He looks back at you over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. If you’ve learned anything today, it’s that the soldier seems to communicate most in the subtlest of facial expressions.

“Well that is my job,” he answers, his voice smooth. He swivels himself around to straddle the bench so he can see you. You cross your arms and lean on the doorframe of the room. His shoulders relax a bit. “I’m not here to cause you trouble.” It was no secret that no one on the team had an issue with him personally, but were overall weary of someone who’s job was to follow their every move. It posed the potential for a lot of problems and red tape none of you wanted. “I’m just here to make sure you’re safe.”

You study him for a moment and he allows you to. He sits there, spine straight and face neutral, but intrigued. He’s military to a tee. He’s all straight lines and clean shaven, well-groomed hair you just want to run your hands through if for no other reason than to mess it up and see what he’d do about it. His build, his muscle, the way he keeps his gun nearby; everything says serious and straightforward. Yet there’s something soft about him somehow. His voice is kind and warming, practically charming. There’s honesty blatantly carved into his eyes. You nod your head slowly.

“I believe you,” you tell him truthfully. His head bows just slightly in appreciation. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to you.” His lips cock up in a small smirk and he blinks away from you. “I trust Cutter with my life. I trust him to do the right thing and make sure the world doesn’t go to hell. So it doesn’t matter that I think your intentions are good or that you’re honorable or attractive.” You ignore the way he raises a single eyebrow at you when you say that. It wasn’t the point of the conversation. “If Cutter tells me to do something, I’m going to do it. Whether you like it or not.”

“I got that impression,” he says, obviously referring back to the bowing incident. “And I honestly wouldn’t expect anything different,” he admits, giving you a look of slight admiration. You’re a little relieved he’s not angry at you for it. “You all have a true loyalty to him. It’s something a lot of people don’t have nowadays.” He pauses for just a moment before adding, “I’m still going to do my job too.” You smile lightly.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, Captain.” You push yourself off the door frame and stretch yourself out a little. “See you tomorrow, Becker.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You turn to leave, not noticing the way he watches you and doorway after you’re gone.


	2. In Between S3.E1. and S3.E2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another snapshot taking place in between S3.E1. and S3.E2.

The next few days are uneventful and quiet. You’ve been helping Cutter and Sarah with research since, until you can convince Lester to install a full medical bay for you to play with, there’s not a whole lot else you can do daily. You tend to pop in and out of departments, helping where you can. You’re the person with a wide range of interests and knowledge, but no expertise in any one field.

You’ve seen Becker here and there. He’s been mostly tightening up security and getting new protocols into place in the background. When you see him, you tend to tease him a little here and there.

 _So, if I left my coat here one night and needed to break in to get it, I shouldn’t try to sneak in through the back door?_ (His answer was a huff of a laugh and a firm no.)

 

 _What if, hypothetically, Connor and I lost some rats in the control panel room? How long would the cameras go down when they chewed through the wires?_ (You decided not to tell him that may or may not have happened before.)

 _If I go out to lunch and forget my pass here, will your men let me back in or do I just get to go home?_ (Don’t forget your pass.)

He doesn’t seem to mind your presence and you certainly don’t mind his. You find yourself chatting with him about nothing in particular almost every day as you two work. You’ve even gotten into a slight habit of telling him goodnight before you leave for the night. You don’t seek him out or anything, but he’s usually in the room and you like to be polite.

You don’t really realize it, but Becker is a watcher. He’s very tuned in to the little things and picks up on the small, subtle details of people. If you had noticed this about him earlier, it wouldn’t have shocked you when he picked up on the discrepancy between you and Cutter.

One day, when he sees you in one of the research rooms flipping through books, he walks in casually. You look up from the book and flash him a smile.

“Hey Becker,” you greet kindly.

“Y/N,” He gives you a small nod in return.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You move to the table in the middle of the room that’s got books scattered across it. You plop the one in your hands on top of some others and lean onto the table a little.

“I was curious about something,” he tells you, coming to the opposite side of the table.

“What’s that?” You perk up a little bit, intrigued by what he could ask you.

“I’ve noticed you and Cutter have some odd interactions,” he says, choosing his words carefully. You feel your stomach sink just slightly and your eyes flutter down away from him. Becker doesn’t miss the change in your demeanor. “Something bad?”

“Not bad just…” you pause, trying to figure out how to explain it. You lean onto your elbows on start fiddling your fingers around. “Our relationship is complicated.” Becker nods again, ready to accept that as an answer and not push, but you feel like you can’t just leave it like that. “Years back there was a creature attack where my family and I were vacationing,” you start to explain. “Cutter saved me and my brother, but my parents didn’t make it.” His expression changes to one of sympathy, but you try not to linger on it too long. It was still a hard reality to face some days. “My brother went back to the states, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I got sucked into all of this.” You look around the room, open your hands and motion to the building. “I was determined not to let what happened to us happen to another family. Cutter took me under his wing, taught me, mentored me. He became more than my friend,” you say fondly. When you look up at Becker, you notice the slightly surprised expression he has.

“Oh, no!” you quickly correct, seeing his mind had taken that as a sign of a romantic relationship. “Not like that! Ew.” Your face scrunches up at the thought and Becker looks slightly amused. “No, he’s like family,” you clarify once more before pausing again. How in the world are you supposed to explain this? “But _this_ Cutter… he’s not _my_ Cutter.” As expected, Becker looks a bit confused.

“What do you mean?” His posture relaxes a little, dropping his shoulders and unstiffening his body. It makes the conversation feel a little less formal and a little more friendly.

“A while back he went through an anomaly and when he came back… he wasn’t himself.” You find yourself dropping your eyes down and running your fingers over random book pages, trying to piece your words together coherently. “He remembered Abby and Connor and Lester. But he didn’t remember me.” You’re a little surprised by how much it stings to say it. You try to pretend you’ve gotten used to it, but you know you still haven’t. “He said he changed something in the past which altered the future. I’m essentially a product of that change and from a different timeline than he is now. The creature attack on my family, he doesn’t even remember it. It didn’t happen in his world.” You still don’t look up at Becker, your voice taking on a slightly more somber tone. “He doesn’t know me like I know him.”

“You still trust him?” Becker’s voice is sensitive and honest. He’s not judging you or even baffled by the situation. He’s just… asking.  

“He’s still the same person, still has the same goals and motives and personality.” You shrug, finally looking up at him. He’s watching you with soft eyes and while you don’t typically talk about this with anyone, it’s easy to see why you feel comfortable being open with him. “He’s still Nick Cutter so, yeah. I still trust him with my life.” You pause to think for a moment and then let out a small, ironic laugh. “He’s almost like my Claudia Brown.” Becker’s brow furrows again.

“Your what?”

“Nevermind.” You wave your hand at him and straighten up, smiling a little. “That’s an even longer story. It’s just… one person recognizes the other and the other has no clue.” He nods at you once more.

“Complicated sounds like a good word for it,” he says lightly. It’s a confusing mess, but he doesn’t seem to be too lost or want to question it further, which you’re grateful for. “And I’m sorry about your parents.”

“Thanks.” You sigh and lift your shoulders in a slight shrug. “It is somewhat of a comfort to think that in another timeline they’re still alive and happy, that they never went through the attack.” He smiles at you in return.

“That’s a good way to think about it.” After a moment of silence, he motions to your table of books. “I’ll let you get back to your work.”

“I’m not doing much really. Got anything you need help with? A guinea pig to test security maybe?” He chuckles at your mischievous enthusiasm.

“Not today, but I’ll be sure to let you know next time.” He starts walking back towards the door.

“I’m holding you to that,” you call out after him and he throws another smile over his shoulder before he disappears. This time it’s your turn to watch the doorway after he’s gone, enjoying the remains of a friendly conversation.


	3. S3.E2.

Your day started out uneventful. Abby, Connor, and Jenny were assigned to go watch a spot that may have an anomaly opening at any given time… or not at all. Sarah was trapped doing Cutter’s bidding for the time being, nose in a book or out gathering even more books and research papers. You were left to your own devices for the most part, bopping around, watering plants, browsing the databases. It’s quite boring honestly.

But then, as you’re wandering the halls, the security breech alarm goes off, blaring from all directions. It startles you and you look up in confusion. The new alarms have only gone off once during a test and you’re not totally sure if this is an unannounced drill, a malfunction, or a real breech. No one appears to be filing out of their offices or evacuating, so you keep along your path down the hall, hoping to bump into one of the guards or someone who knows something.

As you pass the locker rooms though, you notice a large man standing in front of Cutter’s locker. And he is most definitely not Cutter.

“Hey!” you call out above the noise of the alarm. “What are you doing?” A smarter person might have instantly deduced it was a bad idea to approach a stranger during a security failure, but your self-preservation skills have never been ranked very highly so when he didn’t respond, you stepped into the room. He opened Cutter’s locker and you grabbed his shoulder, trying to spin him to face you. “ _Hey!_ ” you shouted louder, pulling on his arm.

He rotated his shoulder, using his arm to push you to the side with a hard shove. You stumble backwards, heart suddenly beating a little faster as the adrenaline starts to course through you. He turns to face you, holding one of Cutter’s shirts in his hand, his other moving into his pocket.

“Don’t move!” Becker’s voice bellows into the locker room. He’s standing in the doorway, gun drawn and pointed at the stranger. “Face me slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them.” His words are calculated, but his voice straining and while his presence gives you a small sense of comfort, you’re still tense and taking shallow breaths.

The man pulls his hand out of his pocket, a black pistol in his grip. Your chest tightens as you stop breathing, body trying to remain completely still. You can feel your blood pumping through your veins, feel it pulsing and throbbing just under your skin as fear spreads through you.

“Drop your weapon and get down on the ground _now!_ ” Becker shouts, taking a single step forward. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you hear a bit of fear in his voice too.

The guy doesn’t listen and instead starts to lift his gun to point it at you. Your breath hitches and you jump at the sound of a gunshot ringing out. It takes you a moment, a long exhale of a breath, to realize you’ve shut your eyes. You feel no pain and when you finally look and see the blood spattered on the lockers, see the stranger slumped over on the floor with empty eyes, you know it was Becker that fired his weapon.

Your hands start to shake as your body relaxes, the immediate threat having been taken out. Your shoulders slouch forward and muscles you forgot you even had started to unclench. Becker on the other hand is still rigid as he approaches the man, gun still trained on him, to kick his weapon away and make sure he’s truly dead.

“Are you alright?” he asks you, voice softer in tone but still hard in his words. You simply nod, voice caught in your throat.

Cutter rushes through the doorway, drawn by the sound of the gunfire. He looks worriedly at the scene and you hope you’re not too visibly shaken. The last thing you wanted was them coddling over you right now. When his eyes fall onto the man lying on the floor though, he seems to forget about you.

“I know this man,” he says with a clear bewilderment. “That’s impossible.” Seemingly satisfied that the guy isn’t going to jump back up, Becker steps away from him and comes to stand next to you. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t even look you up and down, but he stands close and keeps his gun in his hand.

“Why?” he asks Cutter, purely on habit of questioning the man, not because he truly cared at that very moment. Cutter’s eyes don’t move from the stranger.

“Because I watched him die in the Silurian Desert millions of years ago.” There’s a long pause as you and Becker exchange puzzled looks with Cutter. He bends his knees and inspects the man closely. 

“Well that’s…comforting,” you joke lightly. Becker just looks as though he’s never going to understand the madman you call a friend.

It doesn’t take long for more security to file into the room. You catch Becker rolling his eyes at their tardiness and you suspect he’s going to have a long, loud conversation with whoever let that man into the building. You take the moment of bustling to slip out of the room, rolling your wrists and your neck, trying to shake the last of tension.

-

You keep to yourself as much as you can for the rest of the day. You expected to have been pulled aside by someone official to have a statement taken down, but no one did. You try not to think about the incident too much. It wasn’t the first time you’d been on the wrong end of a gun, but it had never been that close up. It shook you a bit.

“Hey,” Becker calls out as you’re walking down the main hall, ready to go home. You stop walking and turn to him, adjusting the bag on your shoulder as he comes up to you. “You okay?” He lowers his voice, his fingers barely touching your elbow to guide you closer to the wall.

“Yeah,” you answer, following him easily. “Yeah I’m alright.” He watches your eyes carefully as you speak. You lean your shoulder against the wall and sigh a little. “A little more excitement than I planned on today, but I’m okay,” you tell him honestly. “Are you?” He killed a man today. You can’t imagine that being something that doesn’t weigh on a person. He nods.

“Not the first time I’ve had to pull the trigger,” he admits. “Situations like that, there’s no choice to be made and you kind of make your peace with that.” You nod with him. It makes sense really. A man in his position can’t really afford to break down every time a trigger gets pulled.

There’s a small silence as you watch each other softly. His gaze manages to make you feel comfortable, but the longer he stares, the more you feel like you should make a quick escape. You feel the beginnings of flutters brewing in your stomach and a blush threatens to creep onto your cheeks.

Becker glances down and you both realize his fingers are still on your elbow, thumb ghosting back and forth along the outer side of your forearm. He clears his throat and drops his hand awkwardly. You both shuffle a little and look away. You’re trying as hard as you can to keep that blush at bay.

“So, I uhh,” you fumble a little for your words and run your hand through your hair. “I heard you wouldn’t let Sarah in the building,” you tease, trying to change the subject and shift the mood. He cracks a smile and chuckles, tilting his head at you.

“Well like I told you, don’t forget your pass.” He crosses his arms over his chest and there’s almost a confident cock in his hips.

“You know it’s going to happen,” you tell him. “I’m bound to forget it one of these days. He agrees by raising his brow and tilting his chin. “Maybe we need a code between you and me. One that lets me in without a pass.” You smile when he doesn’t shoot your teasing down.

“What? Like, _Connor wears dresses_?” You can’t help but giggle at his suggestion.

“Well now I’ll just want to go around saying that all the time,” you joke. (You are partly serious about it though. You do enjoy teasing Connor.) Becker smiles along with you and another easy silence falls between you two. You break it by shrugging your shoulder back towards the door at the end of the hall. “I should get going,” you tell him.

“Before you go to bed, do a check and make sure your windows are locked,” he tells you. You scrunch your face in confusion at him. “It will help you sleep. Trust me.” Your face softens and if your body could melt, it would have. He has a hard exterior, but it’s clear he cares. It’s such a simple thing to say to make you understand he doesn’t expect everyone to handle having a gun in their face with the casualness he projects. “And if that doesn’t help,” he continues, sticking his hand into his pocket and coming back with a strip of paper. “Here’s my number.” The gesture surprises you and it takes you a moment to reach out and take it from him, stumbling and muttering your way through a _thank you_ while trying desperately not to let that blush come back. “If I don’t answer, it’s probably because I also gave my number to Connor which I admittedly regret now.” You huff out a laugh and nod.

“The novelty of harassing you will wear off eventually,” you reassure him. Your eyes roam upwards, reconsidering your statement. “Probably,” you amend. He chuckles before straightening himself and taking a step back.

“I can only hope,” he says and then nods at you. “Enjoy your night.”

“You too.”

He turns on his heels and starts walking back into the core of the building, leaving you free to go home. He turns his head and gives you a smile before disappearing behind the large double doors. You finally move from your spot against the wall and start to walk out again, but notice your cheeks are still warm and there’s a slight smile on your face.

You mentally kick yourself and scold your body for reacting as it did. The last thing you need is to be developing a crush on Captain Becker.


End file.
